Mon Nounours
by Marla Fair
Summary: Written for the October 'Pennings from Prompts' challenge on Bonanza Boomers. We had to use the phrase 'beauty is only skin deep'. Young Hoss learns a lesson - and so does his Mama.


Mon Nounours

Marie Cartwright paused at the top of the stairs and looked down into the darkened great room. She let out a sigh and began to descend, careful to pick up her voluminous skirts as she went. She had a tendency to hurry and had almost fallen the day before. They had been heading to a social gathering in Virginia City and, most fortunate, Benjamin had been directly before her. He caught her and then held her tightly, refusing to release her until they reached bottom. Benjamin was always so worried about her and their young son. It was as if he believed they were fragile delicate things that needed protecting from the world. The beautiful woman frowned.

Of course, in a way, _she_ at least did.

With her hand on the rail Marie descended into the darkness, headed for the hearth. Her husband and Adam were out on the range and she was alone with the two younger boys. She had bid goodnight to both, tucking them in tightly in the same bed. Joseph had been having nightmares of late and Hoss had asked that his little brother be allowed to sleep in his room. The lovely woman smiled. Among the many things Eric Cartwright inherited from his father, chief among them was his fierce protective nature. When the _jeune géant_ loved something he took hold and would not let go. She thought it had to do with losing his mother before he ever knew her – like his older brother Adam. But where Adam's grief had compelled him to chose the path of the mind, everything young Hoss did came from his heart.

When she reached the hearth she passed it and went to the cupboard where Benjamin kept his brandy. She felt a need for it tonight. The evening before in Virginia City had not gone well. Oh, the beautiful, important people had been polite enough. They had greeted them as they always did with curtseys and deep dignified bows. Then they hung back, speaking low behind their fans and the hands that held their fine cigars.

A light smile touched her lips as she took the glass of brandy and went to the chair her love sat in. She leaned back, soaking in the scent of him.

Benjamin had not noticed. He had told her that _she_ was the only thing he could see.

For her, their cruel words were all _too_ familiar. She had lived so many years with condemnation that it was difficult not to take it upon herself. If only she had met Benjamin years before. If only, she had made better choices _before_ she met him. If she had not been so impetuous, so impulsive...

So _wrong._

Placing the brandy glass on the side table, Marie Cartwright leaned forward and covered her face with her hands.

And cried.

She did not hear him come down. She only knew he was standing there when a small hand touched her hair and a young voice asked, "Mama? How come you're cryin'?"

Marie sat up. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and then focused on her middle son.

"I am tired, that is all."

Young Hoss, who was to turn ten years old in two days, frowned. His sandy eyebrows knit together as he shook his head slowly. "I know you know better than that, Mama. It says in the Good Book it ain't right to lie."

Ah, the candor of the young!

She took his hands in hers. "Non, _mon nounours_ , you are wise. It is not right Forgive me."

This time those brows shot up towards his scruff of reddish-brown hair. "You mean I taught _you_ somethin'?"

She smiled and nodded. " _Oui_."

He studied her a moment more. "What made you cry, Mama?"

How to tell a child? How to explain how much it hurt to have the men and women who should have admired her husband, instead whispering about him behind his back, saying how Benjamin Cartwright had lost his mind and brought a _courtisane_ back from New Orleans to be his wife.

When she said nothing, Hoss narrowed his clear blue eyes and asked, "Was it them mean people in Virginia City?"

This time _her_ golden eyebrows did the dance. "What would make you say that?" she asked.

He ducked his head so his chin rested on his chest. "'Cause they're mean to me too," her boy said softly.

Marie's fingers tightened on his. "Tell me."

Hoss shrugged. "I see 'em, pointin' fingers and laughin' at me 'cause I'm so big and clumsy. It's mostly kids, but I seen their mamas and papas laughin' too."

She watched as a tear ran down her son's cheek. Her heart was breaking. She knew all too well the pain that stabbed Hoss because it was her own.

Reaching up, Marie cupped his face in her hand. "Let us make a pack, you and I."

He brightened . "You mean like blood brothers?" A second later he added, worried, "You ain't gonna make me cut my hand or nothin', are you?"

She laughed. " _Non_. I believe a pinky promise will do."

Hoss nodded solemnly and held out his pinky.

She linked it with hers. "When people make fun of the way I look, or who I am, I will remember that beauty is only skin deep and that it is what is _inside_ that matters."

Her son looked confused.

"What is it?" she asked.

"But Mama, you _are_ beautiful!"

She released his pinky. "You are too, Hoss, in all the ways that count – in the way you love and care for those who belong to you." Marie smiled as she laid her hand on his arm. "Including me."

"I love you, Mama," Hoss said as he leaned forward to embrace her.

Marie was crying again, but this time it was out of joy.

" _Mon nounours_ , I love you too."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 _mon nounours – my teddy bear_

 _jeune géant – young giant_

 _courtisane - coutesan_


End file.
